Harry sat himself with a groan and a sigh. It was funny the things he'd taken for granted as a youth which he now counted as a luxury. Comfortable seating for one, and joints that didn't ache so much. Or having a good friend sitting beside you, watching your back.

Regret, a powerful and useful emotion, it informs us and instructs us on our mistakes. It allows us to learn to be better. If properly realized that is. Improperly handled, regret becomes a poison in your mind and in your blood, slowing your actions and confusing your thoughts. It clouds all before you and brings the past into crystal clear focus. Enough time to work on you, and regrets can bow your back, line your face, and turn your heart to stone.

Regret, sometimes all Harry felt any more was regret. He reflected on this glancing at the faded line where his wedding band had once sat. Even for things that he had no control over, it was strange to regret so much considering, especially with what he was facing now.

Harry was old, old as dirt and twice as ugly as he liked to say, he was staring death in the face. He and his friend, the sole remaining one of the original host, were sitting on a cold stone bench. Contemplating an arch of all things.

It was strange he was feeling regret now of all times as he looked back, because by and large, he'd led what many would refer to as a "Good" life.

He'd grown up, albeit a little roughly. He certainly had the scars and aches to testify to that. He'd faced down the Darkest Wizard of the previous age, and defeated him. He'd married his best mate's sister. A pretty woman, with a fiery temper. Had some kids with her too. Probably the reason he had lost so much of the colour in his hair. Children were something he'd always wanted. Led a prestigious career as an Auror for the Ministry. Accumulated more than his fair share of scrapes, scars and broken bones doing it. Made Head Auror at a ridiculously young age and made head of the Department a few years later.

No. Not a bad life at all by the reckoning of many. And yet, here he was, filled with regrets. He wished his childhood could have been salvaged, he wished he'd defeated that Dark wizard sooner and spared so many of those lost. He'd married a woman, who he did love, but it had always felt…hollow. Their marriage had been constant ups and downs, though neither had strayed from the other. He knew he could have done better, but he'd chosen the safe path instead of pressing his luck like he always had before. He'd loved Ginny, no question, but their marriage hadn't been what it could have been. He loved his kids without reserve, even proud Albus who no longer spoke with him. He'd had a solid career, but he'd been as married to it as to his wife, because in times of hardship it at least was always there for him.

He huffed a sigh and brushed his hand through his thinning snow white hair, and turned to contemplate his friend, who sat on the bench beside him.

Hermione Jane Granger. She'd led a good life, a great life by his own estimation, but he wondered if she regretted as much as he did. Was she too plagued by doubts?

She'd grown up right alongside him all those years ago. Stood beside him and helped him defeat that Dark Lord. She'd gotten herself married to his best mate, Ron. Had some kids of her own, though Ron had somehow convinced her to name one of the poor rascals Hugo. Her rise through the ranks at the Ministry could only be described as meteoric. She'd changed the world for the better in regards to the non-humans and muggleborns among them. She and he had worked for years reforming the laws that governed their society.

But as he stared at the arch he came to the same conclusion he had the night before when he'd agreed to come here in the first place. Time waited for no man, no woman, no matter how successful they were.

Ron and Ginny had passed away, leaving their spouses behind. The kids, had grown up and were busily having kids of their own, and in some cases those children were in turn having kids. Age was finally catching up to these two. They both knew their time was growing short.

So here they sat, watching the rustling of the Veil of Death in the Department of Mysteries. Contemplating what Hermione had decided. She'd explained it to him the night before, she had the shakes now, bad, she could barely hold things in her hands anymore. Her voice was fading rapidly with age. She was increasingly blind, and almost deaf. She could barely walk, arthritis plaguing her despite magical and mundane treatments, making it difficult even with the assistance of a walker. She could have handled all of this but at long last time was beginning to ravage her mind too. Her memory was fading, but so was her ability to reason. This was something she could not bare. She'd called him, knowing her own family would not help her in this instance.

She'd made her choice, it was time to go. "Are you certain?" He asked, simply as they sat across from the gateway into the last adventure. She nodded, smiling slightly as he held her hand to still the shaking somewhat.

He heaved a great sigh and nodded. "Then I'm coming with you. You've stood with me enough times over the years lord knows. My body's failing too you know, and I can reckon no better way to go out than walking with a friend on the last road."

In times past this would have generated an argument from her. She would have pleaded with him not to do something like that. But she understood what it felt like to slowly lose control of one's life, of one's body. And many ages ago she had learned that he knew his own mind well enough. "I'd like the company," She agreed.

He hauled himself to his feet, his knees and shoulders, for once not aching him as they had. Perhaps his body recognized that this was the end of the road. There was no need for further complaint, it would be over soon.

She tried to follow his lead but had difficulty, her own body was too far gone for it to match him in this regard. He knew what he had to do, one last favour for his dearest friend. He leaned down and scooped her into his arms.

She blinked owlishly at him for a moment before breaking into a grin and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Thank you Harry,"

It was now or never, despite his body's agreement to cooperate one last time, he couldn't hold her forever. He carried her to the threshold, ignoring the startled pleas and calls of those who worked this department. He paused only briefly. Glancing into her face, to find her staring resolutely back at him. She nodded and he stepped forward, smiling into her eyes. The veil closed over them, and they were gone.